


The Finding Daemons Job

by MaeJacrezz007



Series: The Daemons Job [2]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Leverage
Genre: (cause this is Nate Ford), Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canon-Typical Violence, Daemon Separation, Daemons, Drinking, Episode: s03e15 The Big Bang Job, F/M, Gen, Hardison/Parker/Eliot if you squint, How Do I Tag, Multi, Not a romance piece, Post-Episode: s04e18 the Last Dam Job, The Author Regrets Nothing, summary sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeJacrezz007/pseuds/MaeJacrezz007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Leverage needs a real Daemons!AU, I need a real life, Nate is going to need a real stiff drink, and Eliot probably needs a hug (not that he'll ever admit it)</p>
<p>Summary sucks. Continuation/Expansion of The Daemons Job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Finding Daemons Job

**Author's Note:**

> Ask and you shall receive wonderful readers! A continuation that is only slightly later than promised. Please enjoy, and remember this is fabrication so canon is overrated anyway.
> 
> Not mine. Don't own. Be awesome, but no.

When Victor Dubenich first approached Nate about the job, Nate wanted nothing more than to tell the fat, sweaty little man and his fat, hairy pig daemon to piss off (even if Aoife very quietly informed him the daemon was a boar, not a pig). He was no thief, and didn't ever want to involve himself with the three thieves Dubenich had already hired. Of course, as soon as his son and Blackwell were mentioned, Nate would've done just about anything for the grease-ball pair.

The job started fine, went to hell, almost got them all killed, almost got them arrested, and then turned out better than anyone could imagine. They were all alive. Walking away, _together_ , without a single scratch and with very full bank accounts. Nate followed the young trio of thieves through the park, Aoife trotting along on his right and Sophie to his left with her mink daemon curled around her shoulders.

That was one thing Nate hadn't known about each of the thieves when they started out. They had all known Aoife, of course. It was hard to hide a fifty pound bassest hound while chasing criminals, but she was never a burden to him.

Parker had been the most worrisome of the group. Everyone knew she was… _off_ , put simply, but no one knew why. Most, including Nate, assumed she was Severed. The first time Nate laid eyes on the three, the sense of uneasiness and just wrongness that came off them wasn't as strong as he expected, so he knew then and there she wasn't.

Two days later, walking out of the theater they picked Sophie from, Nate had seen the tiny lizard crawl up from Parker's collar and stick behind her ear like a very strange, 3D tattoo. He couldn't have been bigger than her little finger, and upon closer inspection he found out he was a gecko. Baby gecko. Parker said his name was Happy, and despite the looks Hardison gave her Nate accepted it and continued on. Happy suited her. He was small, able to climb, and the child her soul never really outgrew.

Hardison was easy. Despite his involvement in the dark and dangerous, the twenty one year old was normal. It was no surprise when Lucille was also normal. A blue Parakeet, she would sit on Hardison's shoulder or head or laptop screen and quietly watch him. Occasionally she would hop down and use her little feet and beak to help with the hacking, and Hardison never once got mad at her.

She balanced Hardison’s rambling with quiet chirps, and during his hours of silence she'd speak to other humans. Parker rolled with it, but both Sophie and Eliot backed away uneasily from the taboo. Again, Hardison never seemed to mind, and it took four times of him addressing Aoife directly for Nate to understand why.

Being Sophie, nothing was ever easy. She changed names like dresses and wore personalities like makeup. Hell, Nate knew Sophie wasn't her real name. Maybe the closest to being real, sure, but she was never able to hold one shape for too long. Similarly, her daemon didn't either. He was large, but not too large, and seemed small when he needed to be. Sometimes he was a smiling otter, looking up with big eyes for treats. Other times he was a weasel, something dangerous and feral that snarled. A few times he was a pine marten, or a ferret or a polecat or whatever else suited his and Sophie’s needs.

Emanuel was as much a mystery as Sophie was. A mystery wrapped in sleek brown fur. By himself, Nate never would have figured out what the thing was, but Eliot took one look and said, “He's a mink, very distinctive ears,” after Nate voiced his confusion. It fit with Sophie perfectly then, and as they walked through the park, job well done, Nate couldn't be prouder of his team.

Sophie stepped a little closer, holding his arm and keeping her expression relaxed. Emanuel watched from around her shoulders and was staring, hard, at the three young members. “Didn't you feel anything wrong?” Sophie asked, and he had to blink.

“Parker isn't Severed Sophie. I met Happy. He's just… smaller,” he said as an answer, Aoife nodding her head and ears dragging the ground a bit.

Intense black eyes break their gaze away from the trio and to Nate, Emanuel staring at him as Sophie rolls her eyes. “I know that, you wanker.” She pulled him closer, lips almost brushing his ear as she looked ahead of them. “But where's Eliot’s daemon?”

The wrong feeling he had pushed back came in full force, and Nate actually stopped in the middle of the path. He assumed the vibes coming off Eliot were from his reputation. His resume that dripped red. Nate had assumed wrong. Most people assumed wrong. Parker wasn't Severed.

Eliot was.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

It was a few jobs later, when they're trying to sell the forged horse, that Nate gets his first clue. Aimee walks in and takes two looks at Eliot before she slaps him, her barn cat daemon arching up and spitting at him. For his part, Eliot didn't react much. Looked down, let her drag him away, and clenched his fists at the harshly hissed words. It would have been amusing, seeing the pixie of a woman scolding their hitter, had the mood not been so tense. Left alone with Aimee's father in the office Nate only glanced at the man and raised a questioning brow. He wasn't sure what question he would have asked out loud, but knew he needed to ask something.

As soon as the door closed behind Eliot and Aimee, Willie Martin sighed from his seat at his desk and offered Nate a wry smile. “Sorry about that. My girl always did worry too much about Spencer,” he said, standing and walking over to stand next to his daemon, a large working horse that had a custom door and window into the office. “Spencer didn't settle until real late. Day he joined the army, he settled and was never seen again. I never blamed the boy for not settling. But Aimee’s the only one who'd seen his daemon before he left, and now it ain't there.” Willie shuddered out a breath, his daemon pressing her heavy head against his shoulder and Aoife leaning closer to Nate under his chair. It was never pleasant to think about a daemonless human. Wasn't natural.

“He's strong,” Nate heard himself say. Felt his mouth twist into a comforting smile then start steering the conversation back to the con. Of course, he couldn't know how strong Eliot was. That's what made him Eliot. But he could hope that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't lying to this man. He could hope.

If Nate kept Aoife a little closer than normal, or prayed a little longer before retiring to his bottle, she didn't mention it.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

During the cons, Nate noticed Eliot would wear an insect daemon carrying pod if he had to play a role. It was no bigger than either man’s fist, made of plastic that was only slightly transparent, and worn clipped to his pants or belt. When someone looked at it, they saw a small, vaguely insect shaped shadow inside. If they ever opened it, they would have seen it was only a piece of twig with string tied around it in loops. For all the weirdness of Eliot wearing the prop, Nate had to give the man credit. When people saw it, the wrongness that rolled off Eliot was pushed back and it was so much easier to trust a man with an insect daemon than none at all. Even the team seemed more comfortable around him when he wore it, and wasn't that just disturbing?

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

The David Job does a lot of damage to the team, and sets the rift between Eliot and Sophie wider. He tells Nate they can't trust someone who cons their own crew. Sophie tells him they shouldn't trust someone with half a soul. Hardison grumbles about blowing the offices. Parker vanishes into some ventilation somewhere.

Nate just wants to slap all the children. Sophie included. He doesn't, because Aoife reminds him (multiple times) that violence only works for Eliot.

Nate shudders at being compared to Eliot.

It takes too many drinks and too many bumps and a few acts of trust before the job is finally done and they scatter. They have to, Nate reminds himself as he walks away. It's so much like their first job, he almost expects Parker to come out from a tree and convince him to stay. Or Hardison explaining new HQ options. Eliot maybe grumbling about killing Sterling. Sophie, well, she wouldn't say a damn thing besides smile that smile of hers and take his arm while explaining how he really is a thief. Really.

He moves to Boston, where his roots are and his father’s bar. It wasn't really, but McRory’s was as much Nate’s school and home away from home as anywhere was. He tries, honestly tries, to get a real job. Goes to do an interview and everything. It goes about as well as can be expected.

… Plus he almost gets hit by a car. That's not fun.

The girl he saves is safe though, the dad not in any immediate danger, and he never got a drink. Win win. Aoife is proud of him, and holds her head high and waddles around happily on her short legs at how they avoided disaster. Nate thinks she's overdoing it all, but still treats himself to a new hat before going to Sophie’s show.

Of course she invited the others. Emmanuel frolicked around like the strange, bipolar thing he was, and laid flat across the bar after. He looked very much like a scarf someone stretched out, but Nate felt that was inappropriate to say all things considered.

Somehow, Eliot’s wrongness isn't as strong. And the man is more animated. Even though he is subdued about the “hinky things in Pakistan”, the fact he is grinning like a fool as he knocks out Nate’s goddamn _wall (_ damn Hardison seven different ways to sunday) is a clear sign of something. Maybe not a good something, but not a bad something either. Nate thinks everything might work out OK after all.

They just have to put some effort into it.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Nate should have seen it coming.

Really, he was the mastermind. He noticed everything, or was supposed to. Yet he missed Happy’s integration with the other daemons. It happened suddenly, and so unassuming, he didn't notice until the gecko was perched on Aoife’s head while his daemon talked quietly with Lucille and Emanuel. Coffee hadn't reached his brain quite yet, so Nate simply watched the scene from his place on the couch.

They were all very domestic, really. The job with the MMA fighters had taken a toll on them all, not just Eliot. The man himself was in the kitchen, chopping up some food he miraculously found in Nate’s fridge and making omelets. Hardison and Sophie sat at the table, the hacker practically moaning over his omelet while Sophie ate hers like she did everything; delicately, like royalty. Parker sat on the kitchen counter, right in the middle of Eliot’s set up, munching on dry cereal and staring at the hitter as he cooked.

Nate should have seen it coming. Should have stopped her. He knew as soon as she stopped eating and opened her mouth something bad was going to happen and-

“Did you kill your daemon?”

The knife Eliot held froze, halfway through a green onion that was going to be in Nate’s omelet. Silence rang loud throughout the space, holding strong for several dragging beats before the pile of daemons scattered to their humans. Nate could feel the tension rising, could see the way Hardison paled and Sophie held her mink close. Parker, Happy now standing like a strange crown atop her head, looked like she had just asked what the weather was to a kindergartener. Not at all like she just asked a daemonless hitter with a knife if he had killed his own daemon.

The knife was brought down, snapping the silence as Eliot suddenly sprung into motion. “No,” he said firmly, shoulders tense even as he quickly chopped the veggies, like if he just kept moving everything would go back to normal.

“Did someone else kill them?”

Nate debated the pros and cons of standing up to strangle Parker himself before the thief got stabbed to death in his kitchen, but Eliot just answered with another clipped, “No.”

“Are you Severed?”

Any air in the room got sucked out with that question, and Eliot froze again. This time though, Nate watched as he closed his eyes. The tension bled from his shoulders just enough and the man’s face seemed to relax the slightest bit. Nate was suddenly struck with how young he looked, and wondered if the lack of a daemon or life had aged him.

When Eliot opened his eyes again, the blue was solid and clearer than Nate had seen in awhile. “No,” he said again, softer this time. “But we were.”

The noise Hardison made reflected Nate's own internal confusion, but Parker simply nodded and started munching on her cereal before declaring it boring and demanding Eliot make her an omelet as well. He did, and even gave Nate one. Not once during that time or during his clean up did Eliot make a single noise. He was silent, and when Nate glanced over a few times the hitter stood motionless, eyes open like in a trance.

Nate noticed the wrongness had faded again, and would seem especially weak when Eliot went into the trance-like state. He filed the information away, and ate the omelet without tasting it.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Over time, Nate learned some things about his team.

He learned Hardison had been in the foster system, then taken in by his Nana. Who happened to be a witch and taught the young hacker how to extend his and Lucille’s bond slightly. Not that he ever did, Nate mused, but it was always interesting to see the tiny blue parakeet fly up to move a satellite or some other thing on the roof for Hardison. (Nate stopped asking what, exactly, the hacker had put on his roof after he was reminded that it was Hardison’s roof technically. Since he owned the building. And Nate's apartment, by the way, thanks for reminding him.)

Parker had been in foster care as well, but never found her niche in a family. She had been found instead, and taken in by Archie. Happy apparently settled when they were both very young, too young to remember Parker had commented offhanded once, and that's what made normal people not like them as kids. Parker said normal people sucked anyway, and then went and stole the Hope Diamond. Again. And put it back. Again. Nate wasn't sure what they'd do when she got bored of that too.

Sophie he learned a lot about and yet nothing at all. They became closer, and he learned enough to pick up in the fact she was running from who she had been. Wanted to be seen so badly but also blend in seamlessly. Acceptance without knowing who she was or who she had been. Nate wasn't at all surprised when she admitted one night that Emmanuel, though never having another name during cons, wasn't always Emmanuel. He comforted her, and saw Aoife cuddle with the sulking mink. He forced himself not to think of the last time she had so willingly curled around another daemon, because while Emmanuel was a lot like Maggie’s clever little Demitris, Sophie could be any woman yet was unlike any Nate had known before.

From Eliot, he learned almost nothing at all. He was a wanted man in several countries, but Nate knew that. He had killed people, but Nate knew that too. What he hadn't known was that Eliot had been in the army, special forces if Nate had pieced together the stories right, and that he didn't like the violence in him. Didn't seem to like the man in the mirror.

Nate learned that Eliot’s daemon was alive though. Somehow. Somewhere. Why the two stayed separated when it clearly wore down on the human was still a mystery, and where the daemon was was a mystery as well. Nate learned that Eliot, while not raised by a witch, could achieve a type of melding with his daemon, for lack of a better word. The one time Nate asked, sitting with the man alone hours after McRory's was supposed to have closed, Eliot said he never called it anything. Described it as a four-eye state. Apparently, when Eliot would stare off or meditate and go into a trance, he was looking through his daemon's eyes.

Nate wasn't sure if he should find that comforting or not, and simply nodded. He'd heard of something like that, a practice used ages ago by certain tribes, but the study of daemons was risky business. So he took Eliot's words to heart, raised a glass of scotch in a silent toast, and drank to daemons that weren't there.

Over time, Nate learned a lot about his team. Learned Parker’s way of saying things, how to decypher Hardison’s techno babble, when Sophie needed him to be a critic or a fan, or when Eliot wanted to sit down at the bar and just share a drink. Over time, Nate learned to trust his team and learned to think of them like family.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Three and a half years after the team starts --two after Eliot admits some half truth of being Severed -- one after they start thinking of each other as family -- six months after Nate can finally look at Eliot and the wrongness doesn't make him flinch-- the Italian walks into their lives and drags Damien Moreau in with her.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

“Tell them.”

Nate isn't sure he's ever seen Hardison so angry. Even when they blew up the offices, he didn't have the same burning rage in his eyes. Hell, even Lucille looks angry, all rumpled and wet blue feathers and everything.

Eliot doesn't say a word, and Hardison turns to Nate. “Eliot worked with Moreau back in the day. A lot.” The fire burning in his brown eyes flares up, though this doesn't seem to be directed at Eliot this time. “Man has two daemons Nate. Two. Kept one on a leash,” he spits, sitting down on a bench and clutching Lucille this chest while running shaking fingers through her feathers.

That final admission is what pushes Nate to his feet, pacing the few steps to stand in front of their hitter and feeling his own rage flare. He has a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that doesn't want to identify. “We've been chasing Moreau for six months, and you didn't tell us you worked together?”

Eliot is in what Nate dubbed his lockdown mode, fists clenched and shoulders back like he wants to hit something, but can't. “Because I was trying-” his voice is low and slow, like Nate is an especially slow child who needs things spelled out to him. 

Nate doesn't feel like he's the one acting like the child, and scowls, crossing his arms and letting his own anger simmer. If it came to a shouting match, that would be Nate's only weapon. “Because what?” He interrupts Eliot's explanation. The truth is what they need, and Eliot always responded best to being pushed. “Because you're protecting him? Is that what you're doing?”

“I’m protecting you! All right, last time I checked, that's my job!” The sudden outburst is enough to rock Nate slightly, but he doesn't show it. Keeps his eyes and expression steady as he watches Eliot. There's emotion there now, something peeking through the hard mask.

Nate pushes a little more. “Look, we can handle Moreau.”

It works. A flash of something like fear passes over Eliot's eyes. “We're out of our league, Nate,” Eliot says and sounds almost apologetic. Almost hurt. “Every one of Moreau's men has innocent blood on their hands, every one of ‘em. Every one of ’em,” he stutters to a stop, and Nate's sure he's not the only one who sees the way Eliot has to swallow back his emotions. The vulnerability on the hitter's face, the self hate, says more than words ever could right then. “Every one of 'em are worse than me. You think you know what I've done? The worst thing I ever did in my entire life I did for Damien Moreau. And I -- I'll never be clean of that.”

Never in his life will Nate ever get used to Parker's strange innocence. Eyes open and accepting of whatever is about to be said she questions a known killer, “What did you do?” 

Nate thinks it says a lot about their team when Eliot doesn't shut down. How he meets Parker's eyes and tells her, “Don't ask me that, Parker. Because if you ask me, I'm gonna tell you. So please, don't ask me.” How she doesn't demand answers like she might have before, simply nods and accepts Eliot's reply. Nate accepts it as well, though he doesn't say anything. Doesn't feel like he needs to.

Then Hardison mentions the bomb, and all thoughts about feelings fly out of his head and Nate kicks his brain into high gear. They have a man to kill and a bomb to steal. And, if Nate’s sick feeling is right, maybe a daemon to reclaim.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Stepping out into the hanger to face Moreau is easy. Standing there and not running the other direction, well, that's a different story. Nate can feel Aoife pressed against him, her stocky body trembling the slightest and he can't blame her. In front of them Damien Moreau stands calm and easy, two daemons at his side. One is a cheetah, golden and sleek and dangerous and eyeing them coolly. The other is a large, dark, shifting shape caught somewhere between canine and feline. It's also on a leash, which Moreau holds tightly in one hand. The clear act of ownership over someone's _soul_ is so wrong Nate can't even look at the poor daemon. Aoife is watching them though, and he can feel her mix of fear and hate and pity. He ignores it. Can't show how much the man disturbs him.

“Moreau!” The shout and bang of Eliot crashing through the door is a relief. Until Nate has a gun in his face, Moreau smirking.

In all honesty, Nate is ready to be shot. He probably deserves it by now. What he isn't expecting is for the gun to be turned on the Italian. The shot is deafening, and Nate barely catches Eliot and holds him back as Moreau boards his plane. Barely controls the man long enough to get him to help tend to the Italian. After that, everything blurs. An ambulance comes, and the rest of the team shows up. When Eliot asks him not to mention what happened in the warehouse, Nate agrees without a second thought and walks away. The team doesn't need to know what Eliot did. They don't need the reminder of the killer he easily slips into.

Don't need the mental image of Eliot, calm and taking a gun off the cooling body of a man, with gold Dust sticking to his boots and jeans.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

The days they spend in San Lorenzo are hard, long, and in the end very rewarding. How they actually managed to steal a small country is still a mystery to Nate, but he never was one to question miracles and he wasn't going to start now. The strangest part was probably after though, when Moreau was in the Tombs and the new president already working to clean the country. The government had let Moreau keep his daemon, of course, but the one on the leash…

When Commander Flores led the poor thing into the room the team stood waiting in, Eliot stared at them dumbly for a full three seconds before he collapsed to his knees. The daemon was already there, pressed against his chest so close it was hard to tell where one ended and the other started. Neither made a sound, simply clung to one another in a desperate way that made Nate's chest hurt. Aoife stood at his feet and butted her head against his leg, and Nate snapped himself back to the team watching. Hardison and Sophie both looked fit to cry, their daemons on their respective human’s shoulders, and Parker looked, well, happy. She edged forward, Happy sitting on her head, and simply crouched next to Eliot in silent support.

That had been days ago, and while the team was back in Boston they had all stayed with Nate. He only minded a little, and grumped more than he felt was needed but whatever. He was on edge. Eliot still hadn't spoken a word, and while his daemon was now with him, the pair still had a wrongness about them that Nate, Hardison, and Sophie shied away from. Parker seemed to be the only one unaffected by it, and Nate watches as she approaches Eliot. Movie night, as Parker declared earlier, was now over and Eliot stays sitting on the floor with his daemon in front of him. Parker kneels next to him, Nate watching from the breakfast bar patiently. He expects nothing. Assumes Eliot will stay silent for a while longer.

He should stop assuming.

“Her name was Petra,” Eliot says, voice lower and softer than normal somehow. Nate almost chokes on his coffee, Aoife sits bolt up and stares wide-eyed at the hitter, but Parker just nods with Happy on her head. She doesn't touch either of them, and Nate sees her mouth move but can't hear the words. Eliot's reply is clear enough though. “She isn't the same. Her name isn't… she's not Petra anymore.” There's another pause as Parker speaks, silent half of a conversation. “A panther. Settled right after I signed the enlistment papers. Think Aimee's the only one who got to see her.” A silence from both of them, and Nate wonders which is worse for the hitter.

Knowing his daemon is halfway around the world, or not knowing who she is three feet away.

Nate stands and leaves them alone with their silence. He needs a drink, Aoife needs a nap, and he's beginning to think they all need therapy.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

The daemon doesn't settle, but things go back to normal. Well, Nate muses, as normal as their dysfunctional family ever was. Sophie plays at mother hen, Parker at little sister, Hardison fits into a role of brother, Nate easily is the dad of the group, and Eliot is the older brother. Though if the young trio gets any closer Nate is really going to have to stop with the family analogy or things will get that much weirder.

They take jobs like normal, but Eliot still doesn't bring his daemon when he has to grift. Nate sees the pain in the hitter’s eyes every time he leaves her behind. But she's Unsettled still, and while she doesn't change form like a child’s daemon she doesn't have a form. Not really. Not even a color. She's dark and large and vaguely canine/feline, but that's it. Nate finds it almost as strange as Eliot's previous daemonless state, but Aoife enjoys her. She doesn't say a word, but whenever Aoife lays next to her in the bar while Nate and Eliot drink she wraps around the smaller daemon protectively. Nate always finds it amusing, since Aoife is by no means a small daemon, but Eliot blushes and looks down at his beer every single time. It's strangely comforting to see the daemon act like any other daemon, and Nate hides his smile behind his glass. Her human is a stubborn man, but at least she shows his protective side less fiercely.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Nate isn't there when it happens, he's in what Hardison dubbed the “Bat Cave”. All he gets is Sophie's first hand account and Eliot's grin. He was busy making the final plans for Dubenich and his stupid pig daemon (a boar, Aoife reminds him, but he thinks pig is better fitting) when Sophie bursts in and yells a single word, “Astial.”

Aoife jumps up onto the chair next to Nate, and they both stare at her. “What?” Nate asks oh so elegantly.

Instead of answering, Sophie steps back and looks behind her. Through the doorway Emanuel comes bouncing out, followed by Mr. Quinn, Quinn’s hyena daemon, a beaming Eliot, and--

A daemon, Settled as a wolf or coyote or something. She seems to be grinning as well, and Nate thinks it's a safe assumption that she's Eliot's. Aoife waddles over to sniff at her and looks back, nodding her floppy head at Nate.

“Her name’s Astial,” he hears Eliot say, and glances to see the hitter smiling softly. “She's a red wolf. Settled earlier today.”

Which isn't much of an explanation at all, but since the hitter doesn't say anything else Nate looks to Sophie, who gladly jumps in with the story. Apparently, when the two hitter's went to get Sophie from Dubenich and his thugs at the airport, Eliot almost killed Dubenich then and there. Had the gun in his hand, and his daemon’s jaws wrapped around Dubenich’s squealing boar’s throat. Wanted to save a friend of his from trouble, Sophie explains with a pointed look between Nate and Eliot. Eliot didn't take the shot though, and when Quinn had made the Huckleberry joke a different voice than Eliot's had answered. Astial’s, it had turned out, and Nate felt himself smiling despite himself. Of course Eliot would settle after not killing someone, no matter how much they deserve it. Leaning back in his chair, Nate watches Astial and Aoife interact and looks up to meet Eliot's eyes.

“She's beautiful,” he says firmly, and knows that if he said it any other time he'd probably be hit. But he's one of the first people to really see Eliot's soul as meant to be, and Eliot's chest puffs up with something like pride, so Nate feels he's safe from harm this time.

_LineLineLineLineLineLine_

Nate remembers Aoife settling when he was twelve, and loving the fact she was a dog. His dad never let him have a dog, but with Aoife a bassett hound she could play with him and also help him find things. Bassett hounds had the best noses next to bloodhounds, and Nate thought Aoife looked absolutely wonderful with her floppy ears and brown and white patches. She was a big dog with little legs and a lot of attitude that Nate refused to show, but with more of a filter that Nate thought was overrated.

Parker claims she doesn't remember when Happy settled, but that they always were. Nate believes her because despite her reluctance at first to be a “good guy”, Parker was always a thief but never wanted to hurt anyone. Happy is her eyes and ears for tiny things. The friend she never had to worry about leaving her or not understanding why vents were --apparently-- the best places to hang out ever.

Lucille and Hardison are the perfect pair of troublemakers, whether just causing mischief around the Brew Pub or robbing corrupt politicians blind. They're a tag team in talking, hacking, and everything else they do. Hardison says she settled when he was ten, right after he met his Nana, and that their range is long enough for her to be on top of a twenty story building while he's in the basement. Nate's surprised by this, and more so by the fact the pair doesn't use their bond like that more, but Lucille explains that it's still weird for a parakeet to be sitting around on a random roof. Plus there's usually something better to do, or so she claims, and leaves Nate to go eat gummy frogs from Hardison.

Sophie he knows will never tell him when Emanuel settled or what his name really is, but then again she would never tell him her own original name so that's not a surprise. He knows enough though for Emanuel's constant behaviour changes and Sophie's random urges to play certain roles all has to do with whatever happened to Lauren Williams and Sachiel the mink daemon. He doesn't mention this to Sophie, knows she isn't that woman anymore, but knows that she might be a better one. One, at least, that he can love.

Eliot’s daemon settled twice. The first time when he was eighteen and joining the army. She's Petra then, a black panther that is sleek and dangerous and willing to do anything for the country she and Eliot believed so much in. The next time they settle, it's over a decade later and with years of separation between them. Her name is Astial now, a red wolf that is fast and loyal and protective of those in its pack. The species is known to take red wolves, coyotes, and grey wolves into their packs to form rag-tag societies that they protect, and as Nate looks across his family he smiles.

A hound that once hunted them all now leading them. A mink that's playful and elegant and fierce in her role as den mother. A tiny lizard that decided to stay a child forever. A domestic bird that can fly much further than anyone could guess. And a wolf-coyote hybrid, quiet and strong and protective of his pack. Their family of thieves.

Nate smiles, pat's Aoife on her head, and goes down to the Brew Pub to get a cup of coffee.

_-Le Fin-_

_(for now)_

**Author's Note:**

> I twisted some events from the canon, so hope it's not too confusing. Hope you all enjoyed! Comments and kudos are love!


End file.
